The Fighting Never Stops: The Story of Jim Mcveay

By Al Sturgeon

America has always had its enemies, and the fight has always been met with courageous leaders. Some leaders were showered with fame. Others withdrew in the shadows. Jim McVeay is one of the latter. In todays climate when America must face an invisible enemy that may never go away, Jim McVeays story needs to emerge from the shadows. In his story, you will encounter heroism of the highest order. And as you are inspired by his bravery through poverty, Vietnam, and his continued battle with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, you will find strength to press on in battles of your own.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 15, 2002
• ISBN: 9781462841783

Al Sturgeon

Al Sturgeon lives in Ocean Springs, Mississippi, with his wife, Jody, and two daughters, Erica and Hillary. He is the preaching minister at the Ocean Springs Church of Christ, a devotional writer, and a Habitat for Humanity junkie. The Fighting Never Stops is his first biography. (http://alsturgeon.faithsite.com)

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Copyright © 2002 by Al Sturgeon.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

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Contents

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

EPILOGUE

END NOTES

DEDICATION

To Dimple McVeay, the love of Jim’s life.

Though scarred from standing by her Jimmy

through every fight, she remains as lovely as the day

she first caught his eye.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I bow in thanks to the following people:

To Jim McVeay—my work has been my honor.

To Dimple McVeay—for giving up your husband for so many long visits.

To Patrice, David, Sonja, Gina and Robin—thank you for quite literally—and so graciously—sharing your father with me.

To Andy Dunham—my writing problems are still a work in progress, but the good parts are due to your editing advice.

To retired Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, John Shalikashvili—your willingness to share memories with me reflects your dignity.

To Jerry Loving, Patrice Simpkins, and David McVeay—thank you for taking the time to write down your memories for inclusion in this book. Your perspectives bring rich qualities to the manuscript.

To Jody, Erica and Hillary—my family. I offer my gratitude for your love and patience as I offered countless hours toward the completion of this book.

To the staff at Xlibris—your publishing services make this possible in the first place.

To Jessica and Michael Niemann—your impressive skills were a lifesaver.

And finally, to each of you who bought a copy of this story—my special thanks. You have in your hands a book about a man that should inspire your life. Put the lessons into practice, and you will find your purchase a small price to pay.

INTRODUCTION

This is not simply a story of an American who went from rags to riches—although such stories are inspiring. This is not simply a recounting of the horrors of the Vietnam War—although horrible they were. This is neither simply a story about the difficult task of readjustment and the battle with post-traumatic stress—though the struggle remains. This is the story of a fighter. And as the tale unfolds, it not only becomes a story about a life, but about life itself. In the story of Jim McVeay, we collectively face the struggles of life, the courage it takes to face each new battle—and the spirit of a leader who inspires us by diving valiantly into the fray.

Learning to Fight

Jim McVeay’s opponents in life grew in intensity with each passing phase. As he learned to fight as a young man, he faced a variety of opponents one on one. For instance …

Gautier, Mississippi: 1947.

As a sophomore, Jim had a run-in with Herman McGraff. The school was hosting a Student Day where certain selected students would trade places with faculty and staff members for the day. Herman had the unfortunate assignment of principal. That afternoon, Jim and his best friend, W.J. Hunt, sat in the library looking for trouble. W.J. would hold up a piece of paper for Jim to fire a spitball into, disturbing the silence of the library. Herman wrote Jim a detention slip for that afternoon which Jim promptly destroyed. Herman wrote him another which received the same treatment. As words were exchanged, the statement was made that this would be settled after school. Jim didn’t take the statement seriously, and was miffed the next morning in shop class to hear that Herman was spreading a story. It seemed that Herman had waited for Jim after school, and was distributing the notion that

Jim was too scared to show up. That was all Jim needed to hear. He promptly found a location where he would meet one-on-one with Herman after lunch to ask him about the story. One good punch, and the fight ended. However, Herman’s blood splattered all over Jim’s white shirt just before they were to assemble for a pep rally. The real principal saw it, and although the detention was not served, Jim had to meet Black Betsy, the principal’s razor strap, anyway.

Under Fire

Over time, the enemy transformed from a schoolboy fight into a war. In Vietnam, the challenge exploded with newfound fury. For example …

Central Highlands, near Pleiku (Vietnam): 1965

Most of the trip went just as McVeay expected. There was no incident experienced by the friendly convoy until they approached Pleiku. McVeay’s jeep was leading the convoy in characteristic style when they unknowingly passed over a land mine planted by the enemy. The % ton truck that followed close behind his jeep however, did not miss the trap. The violent explosion immediately disabled not only the truck but also McVeay’s jeep. More importantly, six of the men were wounded as in McVeay’s words, all hell began to break loose.

Captain McVeay immediately raced to the truck that bore the brunt of the explosion, regrouped the men, formed a perimeter defense, and directed first aid to be given to the wounded. After checking the convoy’s defense, he left a senior noncommissioned officer in charge on the scene and took one of his men in a search of the area for the Viet Cong. He immediately noticed some electrical wire, and after tracing it briefly, discovered a deep trench. McVeay jumped into the trench and followed it for about one hundred meters until he heard voices. Moments later, the two man army was coming head on to a Viet Cong squad in the trench. Immediately, McVeay launched a hand grenade toward the enemy and charged them firing his M-16. The commotion in the trench automatically drew support from both sides.

McVeay’s’ loyal troops came charging into the trench behind him while the initial retreat of the Viet Cong from the onslaught was reinforced by troops coming from behind. McVeay’s men charged the situation following their leader firing their machine guns over his head toward the enemy. McVeay recalls being much more afraid of his own men firing automatic weapons over his head than the enemy. Nevertheless, the VC troops began to withdraw into the thick underbrush.

McVeay and his men quickly retreated to their convoy as the enemy in the underbrush attacked their precarious position. Rocket ships were called in for support, and after being pinned down for four hours, the enemy vanished into the jungle leaving only six Americans wounded and one disabled truck.

Fighting to Learn

Twenty years after McVeay’s final tour in Vietnam, the greatest enemy of his life made its appearance. It arrived with a tenacity that a proven warrior like McVeay had never encountered, even in Vietnam. For instance …

Ocean Springs, Mississippi: 1989

The heat was so oppressive that it felt like a thick blanket was wrapped around his entire body, and, as his boots tromped heavily through the high grass the smell grew even worse. The lonely soldier recognized that he must be nearing the source of the stomach-churning scent, all the while wondering if the smell of death was why he felt that he was really not alone. Suddenly, the smell of suspense exploded into action. With the first sight of the rotting corpses, the jungle seemed to come alive with enemy soldiers. There were four or five NVA warriors that came from every side. McVeay whipped his .45 pistol toward the closest attacker, pulled the trigger, and his weapon jammed. His first reaction as the enemy lunged at him was to use the pistol to slap the smaller soldier away. McVeay immediately grabbed the next closest man who happened to be an NVA officer, wrestled his weapon away from him, and shot him directly in the chest. As the opposing officer collapsed to the jungle floor, the lone American soldier turned the Vietnamese weapon on all his attackers killing every one in quick order. Suddenly, the smell returned—as did the heat—and Jim McVeay began to sense the sweat running down his entire body. He was breathing hard yet finding a way to keep silent, jumpy, and poised to attack anyone that entered the arena. In spite of the tense anticipation of the lonely soldier, the next person to enter the scene was a shock. It was his wife, and she woke him from his terrible, fitful dream.

Three different phases of life. Three different enemies. Three different types of fights. One fighter.

PHASE 1

LEARNING TO FIGHT

Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.

—Ralph Waldo Emerson

CHAPTER ONE

ROOTS

There is no past we can bring back by longing for it. There is only an eternal now that builds and creates out of the past something new and better.

—Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749-1832)

Jim McVeay could only have come from Biloxi.

Biloxi

The bright lights dominate the night and congested traffic the day in Biloxi, Mississippi. As I sit in this particular sidewalk café, a simple glance across bumper-to-bumper Highway 90 reminds me that Biloxi is no longer a sleepy coastal village. The panorama is dominated by the towering Beau Rivage hotel-casino, Mirage Resorts $650 million posh investment in the new Biloxi of the twenty-first century.

At the same time, the realization that I am sitting at Mary Mahoney’s (a French five-star restaurant circa 1737 featured in John Grisham’s The Runaway Jury and The Partner) reminds me that Biloxi also has a long and rich history.

So while I sit munching on a shrimp po’boy sandwich and guzzling a bottle of Barq’s, I conclude: I am in a unique place.

The 2001 edition of Biloxi, Mississippi, is very different from its storied founding in 1699, and residents really are not sure whether this is good or bad. Most natives of Biloxi date life by B.C. (before Camille—the devastating hurricane of 1969), but many are beginning to modify its definition to include, Before Casinos. The long time Coast industries, seafood and tourism, had been floundering before the arrival of legalized gambling in August 1992. So when South Mississippi’s first legal casino, the Isle of Capri Biloxi opened its doors, Biloxi Mayor Pete Halat exclaimed, Laissez les bon temp rouler! Let the good times roll!

Many are trying to understand what good times really are. The twelve casinos that now line the beaches of both Harrison and Hancock counties have brought an economic boon to the Coast. Unemployment has dropped under four percent, and the average wage has risen over $5,000 in less than ten years. However, congested traffic, increased crime, and a noticeable change of life came with the package. I guess a few changes should be expected in three hundred years though.

Pierre LeMoyne, Sieur d’Iberville, with his brother, Bienville, and a handful of other brave French explorers landed at Ship Island, one of the barrier islands twelve miles off the Mississippi Coast in the year 1699. Iberville soon headed toward present-day Biloxi; a name given by Iberville in honor of the first Indians he met. Unfortunately, Biloxi would miss the fame and fortune that would eventually come to the world-famous city of New Orleans—although she did get her chance. In fact, the first capital of the Louisiana territory would be established in Old Biloxi (present-day Ocean Springs, Mississippi). For defense reasons, however, the capital temporarily moved to Mobile, Alabama, until a hurricane changed plans once again. It was then that present-day Biloxi had its chance as the French capital in the New World until both geography and politics bequeathed the fate to New Orleans. Some settlers, however, never left Biloxi. Therefore, Biloxi’s story continued.

The French continued to develop the colony by sending girls for marriage and slaves for labor during the sixty-four years the French laid the groundwork for their lasting influence. However, the Treaty of Paris that marked the end of the French and Indian War eventually ceded control to England. The British influence on the Coast was minimal since, a scant sixteen years later, the Revolutionary War ousted the British and allowed Spain to be the third European nation to fly its flag over Biloxi. It was not until the year 1811 that Biloxi officially became an American possession, and in 1817, the state of Mississippi became the 20th state of the United States of America.

In the nearly two hundred years since that cultural jambalaya, the word that continues to describe life in Biloxi is unique. A simple walk through Biloxi’s history demonstrates the inevitability of a unique culture. Such a collection of diverse influence could not help but make the area distinctive.

When one moves to the Coast, you can’t miss its matchless flair. Mardi Gras. Hurricanes. Heat and humidity. The seafood industry. Fishing and sailing. Going to the islands. Shrimp boats. Seafood gumbo. Po’boy sandwiches. Barq’s root beer. Red beans ‘n rice. Beauvoir (home of Jefferson Davis, only president of the Confederate States of America). Antebellum homes. Live oaks. Azaleas. Schooners. Catboats. The arts. In other words, this is not your typical American town.

This unique place has both attracted and produced many unique people. The Coast attracted the likes of Elvis Presley and Dizzy Dean who chose to spend considerable time in the area. It also produced eccentric artists such as George E. Ohr (the Mad Potter of Biloxi who proclaimed himself the Unequaled, Unrivaled, Undisputed Greatest Art Potter on Earth) and Walter L. Anderson. Anderson actually sailed a rowboat out to the barrier islands and chained himself to a tree, just so he could experience the furor of a hurricane.

The Coast’s unique flavor not only produced eccentric personalities, but also leaders—for true leaders are unique as well. Brett Favre (from the Kiln) led the Green Bay Packers to the Super Bowl. Astronaut Fred Haise (Biloxi), Lunar Module Pilot on the ill-fated Apollo 13 mission, led the United States into outer space. Senator Trent Lott (Pascagoula) led the Republican Party as Senate Majority Leader. Yet most overlooked, and most heroic, is the story of the decorated war hero, Riley James McVeay. McVeay courageously led American sons through the jungles of Vietnam. To understand any of these leaders, you must understand the Coast. To understand McVeay in particular, the story must begin with both sets of grandparents: Sweet Momma and Sweet Poppa and Papa and Mama Laura.

Sweet Momma and Sweet Poppa

Jim’s grandparents on his father’s side were as tough as nails.

His grandmother was known as Sweet Momma. Kizzanna Chatham, also known by Kizzie, was born on March 29, 1881, in Biloxi, Mississippi, the granddaughter of an Indian princess. Kizzie was the only daughter born to her parents, raised alongside two brothers and three half-brothers. It would come as no surprise to Sweet Momma’s descendants that she was raised in a house full of boys. The Sweet in Sweet Momma remains a mystery.

Not long before Kizzie made her arrival in the world, Walter Lawrence McVeay (a.k.a. Sweet Poppa) was born on June 28, 1883, in Apalachicola, Florida. Walter’s father married three times while also producing a house full of boys. Walter grew up with two brothers and one half-brother and emerged one mean man.

No one quite knows the story of how these two came together, but Sweet Momma and Sweet Poppa eventually met and were married and set out to provide for their family. Sweet Poppa ran a boat, the Erma M, for a living in those turn-of-the-century days, along with whatever else he could find to make ends meet in Biloxi. Sweet Momma, on the other hand, was in charge of the house along with the occasional work down at the shrimp factory to help financially.

If there were one word to describe Sweet Momma and Sweet Poppa, it would not be sweet. Most everyone that knew both of them would have settled on tough. As many would say, in those days, everyone had to be tough to a certain extent, but Sweet Momma and Sweet Poppa took it past that extent. Walter McVeay, Sr. was a hard man. He was of average build physically, but he became known as someone with whom you did not cross paths. When Walter made a threat, he was to be taken seriously. On one occasion in his younger days, he was out hauling lumber when he became angry at the stubborn mule. To show the mule that he had the last word, Walter took a chunk of wood and beat the mule to death. People quickly learned not to mess with Walter.

In addition to his reputable work, Walter brought in some cash flow with a nice little moonshine business on the sly. After a few run-ins with some customers and/or thieves on the black market, it became a clear consensus: Walter McVeay was a no-holds-barred kind of fighter.

If anyone decided to cross him, it became evident that it was your life you were taking into his hands.

On the other hand, Kizzie was anything but the sweet mirror to Walter’s tough side. Kizzie was also someone you learned to take at her word. Grandkids recall going to grandma’s house, but without the merry songs and fun and games for when children were at Sweet Momma’s house, there would be no running or playing or the like. All children were expected to sit quietly in a row the entire time they were there, and no one dared to test her. As for getting cookies at grandma’s house, one best ate before coming to Sweet Momma’s. Looking back, one has to wonder if Sweet Momma had any food to share, but if she did, she didn’t. People also learn not to mess with a woman whose favorite expression for kids was, You little bastard.

As expected, the toughness spread to the lives of the McVeay children. Sweet Momma and Sweet Poppa brought six children into the world before Walter’s premature death from an ulcerated stomach on January 13, 1926. Loanie, a girl, was the oldest. Erma, for whom the family boat was named, came second. Walter, Jr. was third, and the oldest boy. Ed, who would also experience a sudden death, at the end of a sawed-off shotgun, was child number four. Evelyn was the next to youngest. The baby was Gertrude, a beautiful young woman who traveled to California to be screened for the movies. Gertrude also died prematurely at age twenty-eight.

It was the oldest boy, Walter, Jr., that would inherit responsibility for the family boat when Sweet Poppa passed away. Walter, Jr., known simply as Son, would also have to be tough as nails to live up to his parents’ reputation.

Papa and Mama Laura

Jim’s grandparents on his mother’s side were quite a resourceful pair.

Jim’s grandfather was known simply as Papa. On December 18, 1881, James F. Jimmy Grimsley began his unique life. Life would prove strange from